emberossing | for wauuu

"Oh god..." he all he manages, with a groan. He's glad, suddenly, that he doesn't have his phone. He's not sure he wants to know what happening with it. He guarantees that Phichit is texting him furiously, even though Phichit also knows his phone was stolen. He guarantees Celestino probably is too.

He's not as worried about some of those texts being from his family. The only thing that will be surprising to them is that he's bold enough to kiss anyone on a street corner. But, truth be told, it's not anyone he knows that's a problem anyway. They walk in silence for a while, because he's trying to be blase about this, but he's never had a scandal attached to him before, no reason for anyone to blow up his phone and he has to know.

"It doesn't bother you at all?" he finally says, "... to be seen with someone like me?"

"Bothered? Why would that bother me?" he's genuinely unsure as to why, not yet grasping the depth of Yuuri's poor self esteem after his showing at the Grand Prix. To him Yuuri is sexy, fun, definitely a skilled skater to make it into the Grand Prix at all. There's nothing he could be ashamed of, let alone would think to be.

"Considering our morning, I'm only surprised the first photo of us is so chaste!"

"Well, I mean, the entire world did just watch me self-destruct on international television and the next thing they see of me is getting kissed by you on a street corner," he feels like it's pretty reasonable. It seems reasonable. "You're a skating legend and you're... I mean..." he fumbles, but it's because he can't quite manage to actually apply the words to Victor that he applies all the time to himself.

You're sleeping with a loser.

You picked a failure, instead of any of the people who won, who have it in them to win.

You could have anyone.

He can't say any of that to Victor, though, so he falls silent. But there's just a hint of the idea, in that, that even if that's true, even if all of it is true, that it still presumes Victor picked him.

You could have anyone. And you have me.

He squeezes Victor's fingers again, lightly, flushing more.

Victor's caught on, but that doesn't mean he's taking it seriously. Or is he?

"You'll definitely have to win a gold, sometime!" this declaration is breezy as ever, "If you don't make it to Worlds this year, I'll have to help you get one if your own. Something to look forward to next season, perhaps." He squeezes Yuuri's hand back, stopping in front of the rink.

Yuuri flushes,

"You say that like I could beat you," he shouldn't have missed some of that wording, but he does, too caught up in his own issues, or possibly not believing that they could be true to the point where he doesn't even really hear them. And then here they are. The rink. He's actually doing this.

True to his own word about it, he's not sure if he wants to scream in excitement or throw up.

He does neither, though, just following Victor inside and praying no one is around, instead.

"Isn't that what you want?" Victor asks curiously as ever. He really hadn't pried yet, into Yuuri what kind of fan Yuuri really was. Not just a surface level admirer, not if he trained so long and hard to make it into the Grand Prix. Yuuri must want something; to prove himself, to exceed Victor's legacy... something is in there that Yuuri doesn't have the boldness to admit. There's a part of Victor that wants to stoke that flame, whatever it is, to see what Yuuri's made of. The man has drive, nobody made it to the top six without it. A little more time and he'd understand better...

Luckily, the rink is dead empty, just a few attendants milling about. The storm mostly kept people inside and the competition had passed, the other competitors already gone from town. Victor looks at the ice like he's on a mission, swinging the bag that had his skates from his shoulder.

"All to ourselves. Lace up," he's doing just that, sliding his coat and scarf off and his skates on. He's gracefully out on the ice in moments, his presence filling the space.

"I..." the flush settles deeper. He'd never admitted as much to anyone. Something like that would be arrogant, ridiculous. "What I want and what's possible are two different things. That's pretty typical." It's another glance into the man he is when he's not kidnapped to Russia and Victor's bed, maybe makes some of the other things he's been saying more focused. Maybe not.

Either way, his movements are slower, shakier, as he gets the skates on. Victor's skates. He's wearing Victor's skates. And then he's on the ice and he almost just falls immediately, not because he's particularly clumsy or nervous, actually, but just because his knees suddenly feel like jelly, everything feeling like it's rushing up to overwhelm him at once. He clings to the boards for just a second while everything kind of swirls around him, giddily.

Victor does a smooth curve around, effortless at first, though speeds up to get back to Yuuri. He notices the wobble and is back close with concern on his features. Yuuri could still be too sore for skating... It wasn't like the man knew his limits around sex and activity after. The glide of his skates is loud in the empty rink, a stop that's sharp and close to Yuuri.

"Are your legs alright? No need to push yourself, if you feel weak,"

"I'm fine," it's maybe a little bit too firm, almost snappish, but Victor has just used the worst possible word to use at this moment. But Yuuri's not meaning to be peevish about it, doesn't feel that way once the word's out of his mouth, so he just grips tighter, one-handed to the boards, and takes a deep breath, rallies, remembers they way Victor had been crying out for him not even a few hours ago, that he'd said he was falling in love with him, and manages,

"Lifelong dream. Ridiculous fanboy. Etc." in a way that's almost flippant, though his voice is maybe shaking a little, and then, a little stronger, because its actually easier now, "And I'm sure the marathon sex this morning isn't helping anything." There's almost a smirk at the end of that.

"Here, take my hands," he'll offer both out for Yuuri, glad to lean into the romance and affection without fear.

"You wanted to skate together, after all. Do my old skates fit fine?" the my Yuuri is implicit, said in his caring tone, not needing to be repeated so often as when it was still brand new.

There's a blink and he's reaching out his hands, wobbling a little still with nerves and then Victor's making the comment about the skates and he's laughing suddenly, and pushing off the distance like he's deliberately trying to throw Victor off a little. He maybe is a little, though hopefully not enough to send them sprawling, just sliding slowly away from the boards on the ice.

It's another moment like the naked sauna yoga, where everything has just built to the point where it's too ridiculous for his brain to take it, only this time, it's something too immense for him to grasp-- being here, the kiss, the picture, the skates, the costume waiting for when they get back, the ice, Victor. Everything's just completely surreal.

And then here he is, gliding along the ice and it's not just the same ice as Victor, it's in his arms.

"They're perfect," his voice is quiet. He doesn't really mean the skates.

A grin breaks across Victor's face as Yuuri begins to laugh, shattering the tension. He holds on tight, sturdy, it's not exactly easy to knock a skater like him over. His feet are careful and move with a subtle skill, so natural on the ice he may as well be walking. Yuuri's enthusiasm is spellbinding, completely enrapturing, Victor can help but bask in it.

"I'll want to make all your dreams come true, if I can see you smile like this more!"

Yuuri looks down a moment in embarrassment, flushing deeper, but then suddenly he's looking back up, tugging himself more firmly into Victor's arms and shifting his legs, pushing them into a gentle circle together on the ice, grin widening, arms shifting up to wind around Victor's neck. His face is an open book, tender and sweet for a moment,

"Wow," he breathes out, softly, and it's a little teasing maybe because it sounds like the way Victor says it, but it's also definitely not at all teasing in that he means it. And then, "I'm here," equally awed.

"Wow..." Victor will parrot, quieter, letting Yuuri have the phrase. Victor was used to getting looked at, but how Yuuri looked at him was breathtaking. There was respect, gratitude, sheer awe... Too many distinct emotions in one single look for him to fully consider. He might have thousands of fans, but he's never seen so much honest devotion looking back at him. Yuuri's in his own league, the flattery so intense Victor only wanted to impress more, motivated down to his core. What can he do to keep this?

Or... No, he should enjoy the moment while it lasts. It would be a waste to let it slip by.

"How am I ever going to take my eyes off you?"

Yuuri grins softly,

"You're not," it's said with a laugh. It's also perfectly serious. He leans up for a kiss, slow and sweet and lingering, but when he pulls back, he pushes off of Victor suddenly and glides across the ice, not really building up for anything in particular, not trying to impress him, just to feel it, gathering speed.

He launches into a clean jump, just a double, nothing deliberately impressive, just something because he can-- and it's also just to prove he can. He can skate with Victor watching him. He can skate in Victor's old skates. He can skate knowing that there's at least one picture on the internet now of him kissing Victor Nikiforov.

He maybe wobbles a little on that one, but he's not in danger of falling over, at least.

True to Yuuri's claim, Victor doesn't stray from watching the other man, not a second. He follows after Yuuri lands, smile etched onto his expression like someone carved it there to stay. A hand will catch Yuuri's, skating beside him as if leading along, typical Victor style in how whimsical he could be. Elegance came easily to him on the ice, a bit less so off, where he was far more goofy.

"Ever done a pair skate, Yuuri?"

"Never," is what he says, but he falls almost expertly in line with Victor's skating. It's a weird little moment like when they danced together, where he doesn't quite know what he's doing, but he follows Victor's movements perfectly. If Victor's ever tried to skate with someone else before, he knows it's not easy, but Yuuri makes it look that way, falls into the rhythm and speed Victor sets very naturally.

Like he's been doing it a while.

"Yuuko and I used to kind of play around with skating together, but never really what I would call pairs skating."

"I learned some, when I was younger," he wasn't cooperative enough to stick with it, far too selfish and driven by his own ambition to share. For not having done so in so long, it felt right with Yuuri. The idea that that makes sense, if Yuuri was so serious a fan he would definitely derive style and technique from watching Victor. Another reason they line up so we'll... Or perhaps the other ways they connected were side effects of this.

"I didn't think about it at all, not for years. It came to mind just before this season," he's backing off behind Yuuri, only to slide up behind him, careful to not cross skates. He slides a gloved hand along the back of Yuuri's hand, gently lacing fingers that way, his other hand a guiding position on Yuuri's waist. "This is exactly what I had in mind, when I choreographed my free skate,"

There's a promising little shiver when Victor slides up behind him, skates barely not tangled on the ice, and it's maybe a little surprising, maybe not, that Yuuri seems to relax a little more, all of a sudden, with the slightly more intimate position. Victor doesn't get to see his eyes widen, when he speaks, but he can feel the shift in him-- neither surprise or embarrassment, but a sudden recognition. He's seen the program a hundred times at this point, has watched it over and over, though his nerves made him miss seeing it in person. He immediately sees what Victor is talking about.

He doesn't say another word, he just pushes off into the opening, keeping Victor's hand in his, which draws it across his face, curls Victor's arms around him, his whole body settling back into Victor's as they slide through that first, controlled spin. He stops just before Victor would have taken a knee and his tone is hushed, but delighted,

"I see it. I always thought it felt a little lonely but like this it's..." pretty sexual to be something you do in front of judges is almost the clear end to that, though of course, if this were pairs skating, they'd have to separate after the opening. He's not immediately so good at pairs skating just from watching Victor, and it's not like he's skated this routine over and over or anything-- he's been too focused on his own. But he would still run through bits of it for warm ups or at night when he needed to think, sometimes. So he can immediately see the way part of it leaves room for a dip here, a lift there.

"It would be so beautiful."

Allowing Yuuri to lead, Victor is never far and never taking his eyes from Yuuri. He'll lower smoothly to one knee, making the motion look so easy despite the control it took. Giving Yuuri a look that could melt stone, he takes the man's hand to kiss knuckles. He looks enough like a fairy tale prince, but imaging the costume and music along with it is so damn extra. Victor is not known for holding back.

"It was first composed as a duet, it's less... melancholy, that way," and it didn't speak to him a much, not back then. He had a longing, but is was abstract, tied up in what was he going to do with his career. He's not thinking much about his legacy right now, not with Yuuri stealing all his attention.

Yuuri flushes, but it's a warm thing, crawling up the back of his neck, too, sweet rather than embarrassed. He can see it, with the costume Victor wore, the swell of the music. His hand shakes a little bit in Victor's at the brush of his mouth, but his feet are steady. He stretches out his other hand, slides fingers along Victor's face, until he's cradling a cheek.

This isn't something you could fake. This isn't something you do because you want someone in your bed. No one could look like that just for a conquest. And he's had that thought before, that he believes Victor, even though he wouldn't believe anyone else, this fast, this sudden, like this. But this is different. He can feel him reaching. He doesn't know why he's reaching for him. Maybe he's just convenient. Maybe he really can fall in love that quickly. Maybe this is all a dream and he hit his head at the GPF and is in a coma.

But whatever it is, Victor is reaching and Yuuri is determined suddenly, that his own hangups or disbelief isn't going to keep him from reaching back. He leans down, kisses him slowly for a moment, then braces himself and pulls Victor up off his knees, into him, skating a simple step backwards and tugging him along, grin spreading over his face, his tone tender,

"Teach it to me? The routine you wanted it to be. Show me."

Yuuri's not as expressive with his words as Victor is. Not yet, maybe not ever. But the tone sure sounds a lot like I love you. I'll stay. Show me.

"You'll have to fill in the blanks," Victor says, matching each gesture of tenderness shown to him. He's pulled up and toward Yuuri, embracing the man loosely so they could keep their balance. He can't help an out of place giggle, thinking,

"It's funny," he has to quiet his own chuckling, "I didn't think I'd find my missing piece drunk at a banquet!" His tone says he wouldn't have it any other way, because this is Victor, he would never trade surprise for a more conventional meeting.

Yuuri laughs to that, relaxed, moreso than he thought he could possibly be. But this isn't showing off or trying to impress his idol, like he thought it was going to be. Certainly, the fact that he's dreamed about this, wanted it for so long lends it a different kind of weight, but this feels like being on the ice with his lover, instead, something that he'd never imagined feeling, but immediately knows the name for.

He drifts them into more complicated patterns, idly, not really following anything in particular other than a whim, just wanting to both keep close and keep the ice moving under their feet. He swings out and back in, a move more suited for the ballroom than the ice and it's a bit clumsy like this, trying. He laughs at that too, though, rather than being embarrassed.

"Then I guess neither one of us can believe what's happening," it's hushed, sweet, "Victor..." there's no end to that, it's just his name, and Yuuri winding his arms back around him, the desire between wanting to be wrapped up in him warring with the desire to skate. Everything feels delicate and quiet, like right after a snowfall, like ice, and he sinks into the moment as much as he does Victor's arms.

Competition could get all mixed up with, even poison, a love for skating. Victor doesn't feel poisoned, competition a side of skating that was validation, not toxin. This skating, right here? He feels the love for it from the flat of his feet in the skates to the deepest center of his chest. The motion, the expression, the connection; it couldn't possibly be given a score. He's used to practice, meant to perfect his tricks and jumps and technique. This... He could do this for hours and it will breeze passed like minute, a flow of enjoyment, completely free of thought. He doesn't feel held back, not by anything.

All he wants is to be with Yuuri, share the ice and laugh and smile and touch when they drew close and wait to touch again when they slid away from each other. He pulls the duet version of "Stay Close to Me" on his phone, shows Yuuri how he would imagine a pairs skate. Yuuri can interject anything he wishes, Victor will press him eagerly for feedback. It's entirely for the fun of it, no pressure and no end goal, not really. The choreography was for them to share, nothing more, not right now.

Time flows away from them before Victor can even realize it's been practically a day together on the ice. Sweat is rolling off Victor like he might as well have gone out in the rain again, chest bouncing with heavy breathes of satisfied exhaustion.

"I thought, haah, you wore me out before!" He was clearly wrong and yet he's certainly pleased to be wrong. This was the best kind of tired to be, no doubt.

Yuuri doesn't have much input when they're talking over things, but he'll just suddenly do something a little different, pull closer in Victor's arms, send them into a slightly different sequence along with the music. There aren't a lot of jumps, so he wears out a lot more slowly than he would at normal practice, and every time Victor dips him in his arms, there's a rush of energy, a new desire to keep going, keep doing this.

"One more time?" his voice is hushed, has been most of the day, like this is something sacred, and maybe it is. Even though it's been extended out, has had moments of levity and moments of seriousness, the entire thing has felt more intimate for Yuuri than anything else they've done. This is art, created with another person. This is the soul of who he is, shared with the person who, inadvertently, helped him find it to begin with. "All the way through, and we can just make up the ending. I just want to have... the whole thing." He's not sure if that makes sense, but they've mostly been skating little bits of it at a time, over and over, and that's been great for learning, but he wants to see it all, to build that tension and hold it.

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